


Wonderland

by NewerConstellations



Series: Starry-Eyed: One Shots and Novellas by NewerConstellations [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Amusement Park, Alternate Universe - Beach, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amusement Parks, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beach Sex, Day At The Beach, F/M, Ferris Wheels, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Jersey Shore, Light Angst, Pining, Summer Love, Summer Romance, Walks On The Beach, boardwalk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-04 12:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20471210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewerConstellations/pseuds/NewerConstellations
Summary: Ben Solo's discharged from the Marines after an accident.  He's adrift and back working at Wonderland, an amusement park on the boardwalk in Ocean City, New Jersey.He's put in charge of training Rey, a British summer exchange worker.  Side by side, they make fresh-squeezed lemonade and kettle corn on the boards.  She thinks they're just friends, but she becomes his whole world.Will Ben find the words to tell her before the summer is over?





	1. Tide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tomorrowthestars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomorrowthestars/gifts).

> Gifted to the wonderful TomorrowTheStars, based on her bittersweet prompt:  
"Ray Charles’ gorgeous “You Don’t Know Me,” but with a happy ending"
> 
> This is for you, Margaret. Thank you for being a lovely and supportive friend! <3
> 
> You give your hand to me  
And then you say hello  
And I can hardly speak  
My heart is beating so  
And anyone can tell  
You think you know me well  
But you don't know me (no you don't know me)
> 
> -Ray Charles, "You Don't Know Me."

The tide is rolling out, and Ben is rolling with it. 

Even though the riptide warning is low today, the regular current drags him down the shore towards Margate. Ben paddles his big hands on either side of his board to fight the slow drift. The water is cold. It’s always cold in June on the Jersey shore, especially before the sun is up, but he’s used to it. He’s numb to a lot of things now.

Ben flips his wet hair off his forehead and looks up, arching his back until the wetsuit pulls tight across his chest. The sky is that dirty white before the sun lights it up, but there aren’t any clouds. It will be a good beach day. The swells of the glassy-grey Atlantic rise and fall under him, like he’s perched on the chest of a sleeping giant. Out past the breakers the waves are gentle, and Ben relaxes into the rhythm. 

Nobody else is out there with him because it’s too calm. Surfers in the North Atlantic know to check the wave report before they even bother. But Ben has nothing but time to burn now that he’s been discharged. Bootcamp wired him to rise at five, and no matter how late he stays up or how much he drinks, he can’t seem to shake the habit. Jogging is bad on the shoulder, so that only leaves surfing.

He scans the sand and wipes his eyes with a finger. The beach is empty except for a guy in a Hawaiian-print shirt sweeping the ground with a metal detector and an old woman walking her small dog. The lifeguards won’t be out for a couple of hours yet, and then the crowds will follow. 

Ben likes the quiet. It feels like it’s his beach and his water. The wind carries the saltwater spray across his face and it smells both old and fresh at the same time. The quiet of the morning matches the quiet in his mind. He prefers being alone, anyway.

He cranes his head behind him to check for a wave. One looks promising. He rubs his collarbone out of habit. The shoulder should be all healed now, according to the surgeon, so he should be fine.

Ben readies his board, laying his wide chest down to paddle his considerable mass into motion.

He should be fine now.

+++

“Hello– anyone there? Pardon me?”

The accent catches him first. British or something. Lilting, but with a surprising huskiness that reads as confidence, at least to his native New Jersey ears.

Ben looks up from his dog-eared copy of _The Catcher in the Rye _to find the source of that sound. He’s already read the book twice and the summer has barely begun. By Fall, the ink will have rubbed off on his fingers.

He rises from the old stool to come forward to the counter, spreading his arms wide to duck down below the menu sign and find the source of that pretty voice. 

There she stands, as pretty as she sounds.

A round face with even rounder eyes, hazel and bright. She's slender and fit, and not quite tanned but looks like she could be soon. She flashes a quick and easy grin at him, all white teeth, and Ben feels his stomach lurch. She’s beautiful. Not in a made-up or artificial way, like a fashion model, but simple and natural. Like the ocean at sunset or a spring day right before the summer.

“Do you have any lemonade?” The girl asks politely, her eyebrows lifting to dual brunette crescents. She looks like she’s asking him a favor rather than ordering from a boardwalk stand.

Ben knows his voice is going to come out scratchy, so he clears it first.

“Yes, we make it here.” From this angle, Ben’s generous height and the platform he’s standing on make him giant compared to her. She looks slight and delicate, like a porcelain figurine or a garden fairy standing on the boardwalk down below. The girl throws her long brown hair over her shoulder and blinks against the wind, and she doesn’t look so fragile anymore. 

She looks stunning.

“What’s in it?” 

British, Ben thinks, or maybe Australian. He’s never been to any of those places– never been anywhere, really– so he can’t be certain. 

“Well, lemons. Have you had lemonade before?” He means it genuinely. He’s not sure they have it where she comes from.

The girl lifts up the hem of her sweatshirt to fish around in her tiny cut-off shorts pockets– for money, presumably– but stops and looks at him with her lips parted. She blinks quickly and cocks her head, as if she cannot tell if he’s for real or not.

“Of course I’ve had lemonade. I’m not from Jupiter.”

_Aw, shit. _Ben brushes a hand through his too-long hair and wishes he wasn’t such an idiot. Too bad he didn’t cut it last week, like his uncle has been on him to do, or maybe grown it out even longer so he could hide behind it forever and not have to face her or his own dumbass mouth. 

“Yeah, I just– um. Lemonade is pretty much all the same.”

The girl finds her dollars and shifts a hip out as her voice drops surprisingly low for such a small figure. The tone seems almost confidential, as if she’s imparting some secret knowledge to him. “I just wondered if there was a bunch of artificial flavorings or stuff in it? Since this is America.”

Ben brightens. This he can answer. “No, nothing like that. Just lemons, water and sugar. We make it fresh. I can show you.”

The girl quirks her lips to suppress a smile. “All right, then. Show me.”

He turns and picks out the fullest lemons, then sets them into the machine and presses them with a few practiced strokes. He’s very good at making lemonade because it’s basically just crushing things. That he can do. Ben’s careful to stand to the side of the lever so she can see him work, conscious of her eyes on him. He doesn’t say anything, grateful that the process is simple enough to speak for itself so that he doesn't need to. 

Next it’s sugar and ice, then water. He shakes vigorously with one arm to finish as he chews the inside of his cheek. Then he pours it into a plastic cup and sets it down on the counter that separates them. He bends over it, ducking beneath the menu sign, and doesn’t quite manage to meet her eyes. The lid is a much safer bet, so he stares at that instead.

“There you go.”

He looks up at her then down again, feeling his cheeks heat. The girl beams at him. Looking at her directly is like looking at the sun. He wants to look, feels the burning urge to, but doesn’t dare risk it.

“Thank you. How much?” she says.

Ben can’t believe what he does next, because there’s no logical explanation for it. He’s not a brave dude with the ladies. In fact, he’s usually too shy to speak to a girl he doesn’t already know. But something about this one makes him feel cavalier, like he _wants_ to be the kind of guy who could do something so suave.

“It’s on the house.” He’ll put his own money in the register to cover it later.

“Really?” She looks surprised and happy.

“Yeah. Tell me how it tastes.”

She cocks her head to the side, her smile growing. “You want my opinion?”

“Sure. Like giving me a review. Tell me if it tastes the same here as where you come from.”

The girl is sticking a straw into the lid when she freezes and frowns. “What do you mean? I’m from here.” She shoots him an icy glare.

_Shit. Shit! _Ben stammers and stands back from the counter and nearly bumps his head on the menu sign. He pats his head hair while stuttering out, “I’m sorry, I just assumed–”

She bursts into laughter. “Teasing! I’m from England. I'm just here for the summer.” She throws her head back with giggles. Her face becomes even more adorable, which barely seems possible.

Ben huffs out a chuckle. “Damn, you got me.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She takes a sip and makes an expression of pleasure. He feels a twitch down south as she sucks on her straw and moans out, _“Oooh, _this is delicious.” 

Whatever words he had wrangled before have escaped him. He stares down at her, utterly bewitched.

She fills the gap in his side of the conversation. “Thank you– what’s your name?”

For a moment he’s forgotten it. He blinks. “Ben. I’m Ben.” He points dumbly at the name tag pinned to his dark green polo uniform shirt.

“Hi Ben. I’m Rey.” She sticks her hand over the counter in offering.

He swallows as he takes it, still cold from the plastic cup. Somehow the formal gesture feels intimate coming from her, and he feels a thrill roll up his spine at the touch, even though they’re out in public under the blazing summer sun. Her hand is much smaller than his, he notices. It fits nicely in his palm.

“I’m working at Wonderland for the summer, too.” She flashes that megawatt grin. 

Ben’s lips part with the weight of his jaw dropping. Rey will be working with him this summer. He’ll see her every day.

Maybe his tides are starting to turn.


	2. June

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mite of angst.
> 
> Beautiful art below commissioned for this story from @Bloomsbury! Check her on Tumblr or on Twitter at @buriedbloom.
> 
> No you don't know the one  
Who dreams of you at night  
And longs to kiss your lips  
Longs to hold you tight  
Oh I am just a friend  
That's all I've ever been  
Cause you don't know me (no you don't know me)
> 
> \- Ray Charles, "You Don't Know Me"

Although the calendars say the first day of summer is June twenty-first, Jersey shore residents know better. Summer truly kicks off the week before that as schools let out and the first wave of beach house renters move in. Seemingly overnight, the energy shifts and the streets come alive with more bodies, more noise, more excitement. The rest of the year is either the prelude or recovery from this– the essence of beach life– the peak season. 

By mid-June, the boardwalk is hopping and full of new faces from the seasonal hires. They’re the lifeguards, waiters, shopgirls and amusement park attendants that keep things running. Most are college kids in need of cash or foreign students seeking adventure, like Rey, but a smaller number are kids like Ben– adrift with nowhere else to be. Stuck out in a transitional phase or the in-between.

It’s his fourth summer at Wonderland, so he’s got the most seniority. His manager pairs him with Rey for training since she’s a first-time summer transplant.

He can’t tell yet if the butterflies in his stomach are from excitement or terror at the thought of spending his week a couple of feet away from her. 

+++

Uncle Luke lives in a quaint, old Victorian house painted blue and green and located about seven long blocks away from the beach. Ben’s room is on the third floor in the converted attic that looks out on a slate-tiled roof. It’s got a window-unit A.C., a three-pronged outlet for his laptop, and the peace and quiet of being left entirely alone. He’s comfortable there, even though his feet almost hang off the end of the extra-long twin bed.

It’s Tuesday, and his shift at Wonderland starts soon. He tugs on his dark green polo uniform shirt with the logo_ “Gillian’s Wonderland Pier, 90 Years and Counting”_ and his grey cargo shorts. He grabs a hoodie because he’s chilled from his early morning surf and his hair is still wet.

Ben winds through the streets on the old ten-speeder he’s been using since high school, taking the same shortcuts he always has. It’s much easier to navigate the narrow alleys without the surfboard under his arm. The bike’s a little rusted now, but it works just as well as it always has. If only he could say the same for his body.

The shoulder aches today, a deep grinding in the bones that’s aggravated by the piercing cold of the Atlantic. He swears he can actually feel the metal pins they inserted to hook him back together again. There were decent waves this morning from a moderate riptide warning, and he got beat up a bit. He doesn’t mind, though, because it’s nice to get out of his skull for awhile. It’s a reminder that he can still feel things.

Ben parks the bike next to the tennis courts and chains it to the fencepost. Not because it’s worth anything, but because any stupid kid swiping it for a joyride means he’s out a bike for the summer.

He shuffles up the long ramp leading up to the boards and finds Rey waiting for him. She came an hour before open to help him pop the kettle corn for the day to get a head-start on the crowds. 

She’s sitting on the railing wearing a matching green polo with tiny cut-offs and flip-flops. When she spots him, she tilts her head and gives him a cheery grin. 

“Hey, Ben.”

“Hi there.” Ben smiles, lips pressed together, and looks down quick from her big, bright eyes. The forest green of the shirt suits her and makes her eyes sparkle emerald. He walks to the back gate and combs his damp hair out of his eyes as he unlocks it while she watches. 

It’s just the two of them in the park, and he’s suddenly acutely aware of this fact. 

Without the clamor of the rides and the flashing lights, Wonderland is eerily silent. A soft breeze blows in from the beach and carries the distant cries of the gulls and the muted crash of the waves. Rey follows him back to the snack stand. He unlocks it and flips on the lights to begin prep. 

Side by side, he shows her how to start the kettle and wash the lemons, cutting off the bad spots. Luckily for both of them, Rey’s chatty and quite nimble at filling the awkward silences. He’s slow in conversation as he attempts to craft non-stupid things to say to her and often comes up lacking.

She sits on the countertop to watch him stir corn in the giant pot with a large wooden spoon. Her toned legs kick gently back and forth like she’s floating in water. He can tell she’s already gotten tanner after a couple of weeks. Ben tries not to stare too long at the light freckles dappling the apples of her cheeks.

“What part of London are you from?” he asks, trying to follow her conversation and learn the geography. He wants to know all about her.

“It’s called Maida Vale.”

“Sounds tropical,” he says while stirring the bottom of the pot and adding more oil so the kernels won’t burn.

Rey snorts. “It’s most certainly_ not _tropical. It’s near Paddington.”

“Like the bear?” he asks. Rey outright laughs at that, but coming from her it’s somehow not a bad thing. 

“Yeah. You’re funny.” 

He hazards a glance back at her. She’s smiling down at her knees. 

_She thinks he’s funny. _It makes him feel lighter, that he can make her laugh. 

“Is your college near there?”

“Not far, about twenty minutes on the tube. I’m starting second year at Birkbeck, University of London.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“It’s not, Ben.” She gives him her “silly boy” look. From anyone else, he’d bristle. But from her? He loves that look.

“You make it sound fancy.” 

Rey shrugs. “It’s just school. How about you? What’re you studying?”

Of course she’d ask that, because everyone her age is in school. He turns away and reaches for the sugar and salt. He shakes them in as he avoids her eyes. The topic of his future is more sore than the shoulder.

“I’m taking some classes at the community college in the Fall. Definitely not fancy, no matter how you say it.”

Rey lets the subject drop and hops down to stand beside him. “Here, I’m being lazy. Let me help.” She’s tall for a girl, but still only comes up to his shoulder. Her palm opens for the spoon. 

His long-dormant playful side comes out, and he lifts it out of her reach, teasing, “Nah, I got it, your highness, you can just sit on your throne.”

Her jaw drops in mock outrage, but her eyes sparkle. “I’m not some royal twat, hand it over!” She makes a grab for it, lifting up on her toes and grabbing his bicep for balance. 

Ben doesn’t mind one bit as she brushes against him. He keeps the spoon just out of range and grins, “No, you can just stand there and look–” He stops himself before finishing the thought, lost for a moment in her hazel eyes. 

Pretty. So incredibly pretty. Careful, that was dangerously close to inappropriate. He’s at work. Rein yourself in, Solo.

“Give it, you big oaf!” Rey yanks the spoon from his hands with a huff and rounds to the other side of the pot. Ben’s left untouched again.

“I prefer the term giant,” he says, recovering. 

She scoffs gently and smiles. “Okay– giant. What does that make me?”

_Perfect._ “A pixie.”

She quirks up the corner of her mouth and shakes her head like he’s ridiculous. 

He can tell she likes it, though.

+++

After a week of working together, Rey and Ben become friends. He knows for sure, because she says so one night after work. 

“Hey Rose, this is my friend Ben.”

He’s sitting on his bike with a leg out to hold steady, about to ride down the ramp and back home. It’s dark out and the lamp posts on the boards have turned on. The crowd has shifted as the tired families with young kids have gone off to bed and the second wave of teenagers and college kids emerge like fireflies at dusk.

“Hi!” the little brunette with red glasses waves to him. “I’m meeting Finn at Kohr’s, wanna join?”

“Sure!” Rey says and looks back at him. “Want to come with us?” It’s the first time she’s asked him to hang out after work, and his stomach twists. Hope floats up despite him trying to tamp it down. 

“Okay,” he answers, and chains his bike up again. He follows the girls a few steps behind with his hands shoved in his hoodie pocket.

They talk about people he doesn’t know, other kids in the group home where they’re staying that summer. The exchange program sets them up with housing and a job for the summer, a glorified vacation for kids seeking adventure. Their laughter bubbles up effortlessly, and he nods along with a small smile. Every once in a while he glances up to catch other guys checking out the girls as they pass by on the boardwalk. He grinds his jaw with a flicker of annoyance. _Of course_ guys will check out Rey, she’s beautiful and full of light and draws them in like moths. Who wouldn’t want to feel some of that heat for themselves? The thought of it makes him feel colder, though.

The line at Kohr’s Custard is long. The wind has kicked up, like it always does at night, making it feel ten degrees cooler on the boards compared to the streets. Finn, Rose’s boyfriend, shows up and surprises her by wrapping his arms around her waist and hooking his chin over her shoulder to warm her up. Ben stands near Rey. She crosses her arms over her chest and squeezes. 

He’d like to warm her up, too. He wants to touch her, but instead fists his hands in his pockets. Far too timid to even throw an arm around her. 

After they get their soft-serve cones, they amble down the boards. It’s a nice night. The clouds have parted and the moon reflects down on the rippled waves of the ocean like it’s pouring down from the sky. The girls and Finn laugh and tell stories as Ben trails behind a few steps, never straying too far from Rey.

She finishes her whole cone and throws away her napkin with a shiver. The cold custard must’ve made her even colder. Without a second thought, Ben pulls off his hoodie and hands it to her. “Here, take it.”

“No, I couldn’t–”

“C’mon, your highness, can’t have you catching a cold and leaving me hanging tomorrow,” he teases. She rolls her eyes and slips on the hoodie with a smile. It hits her mid-thigh and swallows up her slender frame. Even with the steady wind, he’s filled with a deep, satisfying warmth seeing her in it.

The girls climb up on the railing to stare at the moon on the waves. Ben leans over and rests his chin on his folded arms on the railing near Rey.

“It’s so beautiful here,” she says quietly, staring out at the sea. The wind whips a thin strand of hair across her face and she tucks it back behind a delicate ear. He looks at her profile for a moment then back to the water.

“Aren’t you used to it? I thought you lived on an island.” He smirks.

Rey purses her lips and looks down at him. Getting her pique up is the best part of his day. “It’s different,” she says simply.

He nods and looks back at the water. He knows what she means. The summer ocean is the best one. It’s full of possibilities.

Finn pulls out his phone and texts someone. “Okay, we’re meeting at Poe’s house in twenty. They got a keg.” He tucks it back into his pocket. “We gotta hustle, Tico, mount up.” Finn turns his back to her, and Rose squeals as he settles her into a piggyback position.

“Race you guys there, last one is a loser– go!” he yells, cheating horribly as he runs off down the boards with Rose perched on his back.

Rey looks at Ben with wide eyes. “We can’t let them get away with that, can we?!”

He grins and turns around. She hops on, legs squeezing his waist. He grabs under her thighs, skin on skin, and Rey wraps her arms around his chest. “Go!” she breathes in his ear and he’s off.

Long strides help him gain ground on Finn, that and the fact that Rey weighs next to nothing. The salt in the air settles in his lungs as his heartbeat races, but he doesn’t taste it. Rey giggles and holds him tighter. She’s warm and solid against him, all tight muscle and softness pressing into his back. For a minute all Ben can feel is freedom, the blood pumping through his veins, the easy smile that flies to his lips without a second thought.

Then the shooting pain starts.

Ben grunts and slows his pace, holding her tighter to keep her safe even as he grimaces and grits his teeth. They’re almost back to Wonderland when he veers to the side to sit her back down on the railing.

“What’s wrong?” Rey lets go of him quickly. 

Damaged goods. He’s fucking damaged goods now. He rubs his scar. “Nothing, I just– I’ve got a bad shoulder.”

Rey leans around to look at him, face scrunched in worry. “You should’ve said something, Ben! I’m sorry!”

He doesn’t want her to be sorry, and definitely doesn’t want her pity. He’s made this weird now, and he hates that. “No, don’t worry about it.” Stepping out of her reach, he turns to face her but doesn’t quite meet her concerned eyes. “I’m just gonna go home.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just tired,” he lies. Ben looks down the boards and sees Finn and Rose are way ahead, turning and waving at her to follow. They won. 

Ben’s the loser.

“Go have fun with your friends.”

Rey steps down and starts to take off his sweatshirt.

“No– keep it. You can give it back later.”

“You sure?” She studies his face with a confused expression, and he has to look away from the compassion in her eyes.

He didn’t earn that. She should save it for someone who did. “See you tomorrow,” he says and turns before something else slips out, shoving hands into his pockets.

“Goodnight!” Rey calls over his shoulder as he walks back to his bike.

He rides home in the dark, rubbing the shoulder, glad that Rey at least will be warm.


	3. Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience on this story!  
Hope to finish it up this month, now that the beach is inspiring me.
> 
> Stay safe and well!
> 
> I never knew the art of making love  
No my heart aches with love for you  
Afraid and shy I let my chance go by  
The chance that you might love me too (love me too)
> 
> -Ray Charles, "You Don't Know Me."

July fourth weekend at the Jersey Shore is one of the busiest of the year. Wonderland Amusement Park runs specials that week to lure young families during the day and even-out the holiday crowds at night. It’s gonna be all-hands on deck to handle the extra crowds. Ben volunteers to run some double shifts to bank the extra holiday pay. He’s got no other plans, anyway, and working keeps him out of the bars, which saves him even more money. 

Plus, it means extra time with Rey. He helps with scheduling, so it’s easy to make sure they’re manning the same booth. She’s easily the best part of his day. They’ve fallen into a natural rapport, with her talking his ear off and him teasing her and making her giggle. The hours they work together pass far too fast for him.

Ben’s fallen for her so fast he didn’t even notice it happening, like a lobster in a pot that’s starting to boil. One day Rey was a cute girl and then all of a sudden she’s everything. It’s almost scary how much he looks forward to seeing her. 

For her part, Rey is just as friendly to him as she is to everyone. She seems to like him well enough, and isn’t intimidated by his size or silence, like some people. He’s got no indication that she feels anything other than friendship, though, and why would she? In six weeks, she’ll be gone. This is just a summer job for her, she’s got big plans in life. 

She’s just passing through. He’s the one who’ll be left behind.

+++

One morning, Ben walks downstairs from the loft to find Uncle Luke sipping his typical home-brewed matcha coffee concoction that smells a lot like seaweed. He’s smacking his lips under his sandy beard and reading the local paper in his worn-out bathrobe. Luke’s an old hippie who settled down permanently in Ocean City after his third divorce, and is a fixture in the local arts scene. He mostly leaves Ben alone, which suits them both fine. 

“There’s my naughty nephew,” Luke smiles, a nod back to when Ben used to steal cookies from the jar on visits. “How’s it hanging?”

“Fine,” Ben murmurs and grabs a box of cereal and the almond milk from the fridge. He’s grateful Luke let him stay here after the discharge because he couldn’t take one more “talk” with his parents about his future. They don’t seem to appreciate that the Marine Corps_ was _his plan, and after the accident he’s untethered. He doesn’t know what’s next, and the pressure from his parents doesn’t help him find the answer any faster.

“Early shift today?”

“Yeah, a double. I won’t be back ‘til late.” Ben grimaces and rubs his shoulder. He slept on it wrong last night and it feels like there’s a marble rolling around the joint.

Luke’s seaglass-blue eyes don’t miss it. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just sore.”

Luke folds up the paper. “Your mother called. She said you were supposed to follow up with the surgeon, but you missed the appointment.”

_Shit. _ “Yeah, I forgot.”

Luke’s eyebrows float up. “Forgot? You aren’t exactly busy these days. I notice these things.”

Ben looks down. He takes a bite of cereal and swallows. “Just didn’t feel like taking the train up to the city.”

Luke sighs. “I can drive you if you want, but you’re gonna have to face it sometime, Ben. Face them again, too.”

Ben really doesn’t want to get into this right now, not with a long day ahead of him. “I know.” He stares at the milk swirling in the bowl. 

“Make another appointment. Just let me know when.”

Ben nods and finishes up, putting his bowl in the sink before slamming the screen door on his way down the stairs to his bike. The Fall is coming and decisions will need to be made. Plans for the future. Ben just doesn’t want to think about it yet. 

He wants to enjoy the bright summer days while he can.

+++

Rey bounds up to the booth a couple of minutes late, high ponytail bouncing. “Sorry, sorry!” she says, washing her hands quickly. “I overslept.”

Ben doesn’t look at her, yet somehow notices everything about her acutely. The splash of new freckles popping out on the golden tan of her cheeks, the cherry-pink lip gloss that smells like berries. 

“Late night, huh?”

Rey smiles sheepishly. “Yeah. Bonfire at Poe’s.”

The envy pits heavy and tight in his belly. He hasn’t hung out with Rey after work since that night at Kohr’s, when he fucked it up with his broken body. The couple of times she’s asked, he’s made excuses or stayed late to clean up and let her go ahead.

Maybe it’s selfish, but Ben doesn’t really want to see her being happy with other guys when he's firmly planted in the friendzone. He knows he doesn’t have a right to that feeling, but it just hurts too bad.

“He’s gonna have another one after the fireworks.” She starts to wash the lemons. “What’re you doing for the Independence Day?”

Ben smiles at her wording. “Nobody calls it that.” He deflects instead of answering. Better than admitting he’s a loser and has no plans. 

“But that’s what it is, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but we call it the Fourth of July.”

Rey scrunches up her nose. “But_ it is _the Fourth of July. Like, that’s the date. You aren’t just celebrating the date.”

He snorts. “Fair enough. Maybe the word ‘independence’ is just too difficult for us to say.”

Rey uses her crisp, formal British accent, the same one she teases him with the most for emphasis. “It most certainly is not._ Independence Day. _See? Simple.”

From her rosy lips, it sounds like poetry. Music, even. 

“You’re just sore that we rebelled against your stinking island.”

Rey cackles at him, bright eyes reflecting the colored lights of the rides around them. “Yes, wasting all that perfectly good tea! You monsters!”

“Yes, we are,” Ben grins. “Coffee’s better anyway.”

_“Heresy,”_ he hears her stage whisper. Loud enough that she wanted him to hear it. 

He turns around to retort at the exact moment she steps forward in the narrow booth. “Oof!” Rey says as she collides into him. Ben reaches an arm out on reflex to hold her steady on her feet. They both freeze in an embrace. 

It must look ridiculous, him with a bag of popcorn held in one hand, the other clutching her waist, and Rey with lemons in each hand pressed into his chest. If someone walked up, they would think it was some strange sort of dance, the way Rey’s body is pressed against his and slightly arched back to stare up at him. Ben thinks he must be mirroring the same look of surprise he sees on her. She’s so slight, he could hold her aloft in just a single arm. The back of his neck heats at the way she feels against him, wiry yet soft, and his eyes dart down to her pink lips as she takes a stuttering breath in.

“Sorry,” she says, just as he comes to his senses and releases her to take a step away. 

He chews the inside of his lip as his cheeks start to heat. “Sorry, didn’t want you to fall." 

“Thank you.” Rey’s staring at him quietly, which must mean she’s as embarrassed as he. Ben whips around before she can see the blush blaze across his face like a sunburn. He walks over to the giant drum and dumps in the kernels to the heated oil, keeping her safely behind his back where she can’t see his face. Maybe she’ll think it’s the heat from the kettle corn. 

God, it’s almost painful. How embarrassed he is, but also how good she felt in his arms.

Rey starts pumping the lemonade handle. “You didn’t answer before. Do you have plans for the fireworks?”

Too rattled to come up with an excuse, he just shakes his head at the kettle corn as it starts to sizzle and pop. “Probably just rest up after the double shift.” 

Ben stirs and exhales. He hears Rey walk up closer. 

“You could come with us.” She says from right behind him.

Rey’s just being nice to him, because she’s a nice person. It doesn’t mean anything, he reminds himself. “Don’t worry about me, you should have fun with your friends. You don’t have to–” 

Her soft hand wrapping around his bicep interrupts him. His heart is pounding ridiculously loud, and he wills it to chill the fuck out.

“You’re my friend, too, Ben.” He hazards a glance over his shoulder and she’s looking right at him with warm eyes. It’s not just the summer heat making him want to dump ice down his shirt.

“Uhh . . .” Smooth. Really smooth with words, he is. Wow.

“We’re gonna meet on the beach for the fireworks then go to Poe’s.” She supplies, as if the barrier to his response is the logistics. As if he’s weighing the desirability of the offer compared to his alternative plan to spend the evening playing World of Warcraft in his sad little loft alone.

“Do I need to bring anything?” He manages, not even mustering a yes.

Rey brightens and a brilliant smile erupts, taking it as a yes anyway. “No, I’m making a blueberry pie from scratch.”

“Sounds great. I’ll carry it.”

Rey laughs. “Fine, it’s settled. We can pick up the pie after fireworks from my apartment? Do you have a car?”

“I can ask my Uncle to borrow his.”

“Cool! Rose and Finn will come, okay?”

She could pack in an entire marching band like a clown car, as long as Rey’s riding shotgun he could care less. “Yeah.”

“It’s a date then.” She grins and turns back to the lemonade press.

He cannot help but bite his lip as he turns back, eyes searching the kettle corn for a hint of her feelings like he’s divining tea leaves.

A date. What does she mean by that? What kind of date? Like the Fourth of July is a date? 

Whatever, it doesn’t matter. If Rey’s going, and he’s with her, then he’s on the right path.

  
  



	4. Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst ahoy, mateys!
> 
> Take heart, this will have a happy ending.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> You give your hand to me  
And then you say goodbye  
I watch you walk away beside the lucky guy  
Oh you will never know  
The one who loves you so  
Well you don't know me
> 
> -Ray Charles, "You Don't Know Me."

The Fourth of July is gonna be a real scorcher. With the heat index, it’s predicted to top 98 degrees. The ocean breeze cools down the boards somewhat, but it won’t be pleasant in the lemonade stand.

Ben showers and pulls his work polo over his head, ruffling his shaggy hair. Luke’s going to a barbecue tonight with his latest rich widow “lady friend,” so he had no problem loaning Ben his old Honda Civic. Ben’s knees may bend at an awkward angle even when the seat is adjusted all the way back, but it can easily fit Rey and her friends.

He parks in the city lot next to Wonderland and unlocks the park gate. It’s quiet as he preps the lemons and makes extra bags of kettle corn so they won’t have to pop as much in the afternoon heat. He’s pulling a double and Rey won’t arrive until the afternoon, so it’ll be a slow morning in the booth by himself. 

Despite the heat, the morning crowds of young families arrive for the little kids’ rides under the awning. Tinny carnival music from the merry-go-round and children’s laughter forms the soundtrack to the spin of his thoughts. 

He doesn’t want to think about it, but Fall is lurking like a storm cloud in the back of his mind. Rey will fly back home– and back to her bright future– with the rest of the summer workers, while he’ll be stuck in a beachside town that powers down for the winter. No plans, no goals. It’s depressing as fuck. He pushes the thought down, like he does with everything that bothers him, and keeps his hands busy to stop the churning of his mind. Ben just wants to focus on the good right now. Rey is coming soon and he gets to see her tonight for the fireworks.

Thinking of their date makes his stomach twist. He packed an extra clean shirt and pair of shorts to change into after his shift, as well as a towel so he can grab a quick shower on the beach. The fireworks don’t start until about 9, after the sun has set. The best place to watch them is on the sand. He doesn’t want Rey to fall in the dark, so maybe he should hold her hand. It’s the perfect moment for it . . . 

His heart pulses painfully for a beat or two at the thought. He hasn’t felt this nervous since bootcamp. Odd how it makes him feel both terrified and alive at the same time.

Time passes slowly alone. During lulls at the booth, he leans on his elbows to look at the ocean. The water is a crystalline grey, like ice mixed with cream, and when the sunlight catches the foam it makes it sparkle. If he were out there, he’d catch waves for hours. Nowhere feels like home as much as the water, that perfect balance of salt and spray, air and opportunity. The focus it takes to catch the swell of the wave perfectly wipes away any other thought. There’s no space for doubt or fear, just living in the moment.

He checks the clock. Rey’s due any minute. Ben leans down to look at his reflection in the silver chrome of the wash basin. He combs through the long strands over his ears with his fingers. He really does need that haircut, like Uncle Luke’s been saying, it’s so long he has to puff it out of his eyes. He’s still fussing with it when the door slams shut behind him.

“Oy, no primping on the job, mate,” Rey calls out loudly. Her accent has that extra lilt of cockney that she uses when she teases him. Ben’s cheeks flush from being caught, but he’s also excited to see her. It’s the first time he’s felt noticed in days.

“I was just, um,” he starts to defend himself, but his mind is too slow to pluck out anything clever.

“Yes, I saw what you were doing, Rapunzel,” she grins at him.

“Rapunzel?” He scoffs and blinks at her. “Never got that one before.”

“Hmm, so now who’s the princess?” She hangs up her canvas tote bag and gives him a saucy wink as she ties on her apron over her cut-offs.

Ben turns back to face the counter, shaking his head and rolling his lips to bite back a smile. She draws happiness out of him like a snake charmer like nobody else. Not that anyone else even tries anymore. 

His shoulders feel lighter. Everything’s just brighter with Rey around.

+++

They close up the stand early for the fireworks. Rey walks home to retrieve the pie that she left cooling in her shared kitchen. Ben heads to the food court for a couple of slices of pizza for dinner. He gets veggie with pepperoni and anchovies, and sits down with a Coke on the wooden picnic bench to eat. Half-way through the second huge slice, he realizes his mistake. His breath is gonna smell like fish all night. Rancid. He didn’t bring a toothbrush and what if she, what if they . . . _Oh shit._

He springs up and shoves the rest of the slice in his mouth while fast-walking off the boardwalk to the CVS down the street. He buys a travel toothbrush set and starts heading back to his car to grab his clothes, brushing his teeth as he walks. Better to be prepared. Just in case. 

That leads to thoughts of Rey’s mouth. Her berry-pink lips, how they stretch wide when her smile lights up. How she nibbles her full bottom lip when making change at the register, converting dollars into cents. He shakes it off before his mind goes too far in that direction. Ben doesn’t want to get his hopes up too high, but they rise like the tides anyway. 

After a quick shower and change of clothes, he waits with hands in pockets outside Wonderland leaning against the wall. His hair is still damp, but at least he doesn’t smell of oil and fish. The ferris wheel and neon signs are all dark to let the fireworks take center stage, and nerves bubble up in his stomach as he looks for Rey. 

As the sun sets along the New Jersey coast, each seaside town hosts their own display timed fifteen minutes apart and aligned with the setting sun. If you stand down at Ventnor beach at the right time, you can look south and see three different fireworks shows align over the open water, then look north to watch the final one in Atlantic City. It’s unique and special, a Jersey Shore tradition.

He sees a small figure walking fast down the boardwalk in the dark and pushes off the wall to greet her.

“Sorry, sorry,” Rey says as she approaches at a fast clip. “I couldn’t get a turn in the shower!”

“Plenty of time, don’t worry.” They walk back to the stand and he unlocks the door as she flips on the lights. Rey sets down the pie and unwraps the tin foil, her excitement emanating off her in waves.

“Ta-dah!” she says, revealing her handiwork.

It’s not quite what he was expecting. 

The blueberry filling has boiled over in some spots and leaked over the edge of the pan. Part of the crust is nearly black, and some is missing entirely. The center seems to have sunk. Not exactly photo-ready. 

“Wow,” Ben nods, not quite forming the words yet, thinking of something encouraging to say.

She says, “I mean- it’s not pretty. It’s actually sort of horrendous looking,” she giggles, “But the thing is, it tastes just as good no matter what. It won’t look pretty in our stomachs anyway.”

She’s got a point. He chuckles. “True.”

“Here. Try a bite.” She finds a plastic fork and picks at the missing edge. He sees why some of the crust is missing– Rey couldn’t help herself from sampling the goods. “I used fresh local berries from the market. Picked this morning!”

She carefully scoops out a tiny piece on a plastic fork, but rather than handing it over to him, she cups her hand underneath and holds it out. Like feeding a baby.

Ben obliges her, blinking as he bends down and opens his mouth. She places the bit of pie on his tongue. It’s an explosion of sweetness. Warm, gooey, tart with a hint of lemon or cinnamon or something, and the crust may be a bit burnt but it’s crispy and salty. Delicious.

He hums. “That’s really good!”

“I know, right?” She giggles. “I’m proud of myself.”

“You should be.” He smiles back at her.

She becomes a bit serious. “The thing with pie is, even if it’s not perfect. Even if it’s funny looking or broken, you still have fresh pie. And that’s infinitely better than no pie.”

God, he wishes he had Rey’s way of looking at the world. Not just that the glass is half full, but that whatever it is inside will be delicious.

Her phone pings and she retrieves it from her shorts. “Oof, we better go, Rose and Finn are on the beach already.”

“Okay.”

They leave the pie locked up and safe in the stand safe and head down to the beach.

In the waning twilight, families are spread out on blankets and beach chairs. They pick their way around to get closer to the waves, scooping up their flip flops to hold. Too late, he forgets to reach for her hand, and she’s already moving up ahead of him to meet Finn and Rose. 

They stand at the lapping water and look south. Waiting.

Kids run around in circles with glow bracelets and necklaces, someone’s got Springsteen playing on the radio, and a fuzzy dog chases after a ball kicking sand in his wake. Some teenagers set off sparklers and smaller fireworks, trying to steal the crowd’s excitement and attention for themselves. It gets darker and darker as everyone keeps their eyes on the horizon until the first explosion of light draws a collective sigh.

It’s not that the display on it’s own is anything spectacular. Fireworks are pretty similar everywhere. The magic comes from the setting over the ocean. Dipping your feet in the waves– which Rey does immediately, of course– and looking up to see color and light exploding against the stars– it’s like being under a spell. There’s an element of romance to the whole thing.

Ben watches the sky for a moment then looks down to watch Rey instead.

Her eyes are bright and opened wide, lips parted in delight as she_ ooh’s _and _ahh’s,_ and the reds and blues flash in her eyes and dance across her face. Seeing her so entranced has a physical effect on him. His own muscles relax and tension slips from his brow. A smile rises on him to match hers. She’s so gorgeous, but even beyond that, she’s precious. A rarity to be savored, like fireworks on the beach.

Rey glances up at him and catches him staring. Her smile turns a bit shy, lips pressed together, but she doesn’t break eye contact. The feeling that surges in his chest is overwhelming, and the back of his neck heats up. Ben has to look away, self-conscious and overcome, and stares back at the sky wordlessly.

But he takes a step closer to her. They’re standing shoulder to shoulder, and his hand is itching to reach for hers. SHould he? Would she take it?

He can’t decide. A large wave swells and pushes them over a little, and Rey sways against him. Before he can think or question himself, he reaches an arm around her shoulders to steady her. She doesn’t move away. She fits under his arm and the step up the sandy slope a bit to get back on the sand. Even then, Rey doesn’t move away from his touch. He doesn’t drop his arm, either. 

Ben keeps his gaze firmly up to the stars and sparkling light, his heartbeat thudding heavily in his ribcage. His chest starts to ache, and he exhales and tries to calm his breath. They stand like that, her pressed into his side and his arm around her shoulders, until the final burst of color. 

He doesn’t let go until the crowd claps politely.

Finn smiles down at his phone as he speaks and types, “Poe’s got three kegs, so no need to pick up beer.”

“Geez, is he expecting an army?” Rose asks.

“Popular guy,” Ben murmurs. He knows of Poe Dameron, even though he doesn’t hang with him or his kind of rich-boy crowd.

After retrieving the pie, they seat themselves in the Civic as the girls chat away. Rey cradles it in her lap like an infant, and Ben reminds himself to not brake too hard and injure her baby.

Poe lives over the bridge in Longport and has a private stretch of sand behind his massive house. They park down the street and walk around the side of the house to where there’s a fire pit lit behind the pool. There’s already about 30 people or so milling about by the keg, and music is playing by what looks like a hired DJ.

_The Damerons must be popular with the neighbors, _Ben thinks.

Rey sets down the pie on the table of snacks. It’s surrounded by cheese plates, hot dogs, pans of brownies, all manner of Americana grocery store junk food, and her homemade pie looks quaint and a little lost. But she smiles down at it and twists the plate, so the good side faces out.

“You made it!” Poe bellows from behind them. He slaps Finn’s shoulder and gives him a bro-hug, then hugs Rose and Rey. When he wraps Rey in tighter, Ben feels a muscle in his jaw pulse from his clenching.

“This is my friend Ben–” Rey starts, but Poe interrupts.

“Ben Solo, yeah I know him. Hey, man. Welcome.” Poe holds out his hand. Ben takes it and they each squeeze a little too tightly for comfort.

Poe’s like a tour guide, pointing out the lay of the land. “We’ve got food over here, the keg’s by the deck. Enjoy and make yourselves at home!” He says magnanimously. 

Ben hates him already.

+++

It takes two full Solo cups of Stella Artois to admit that he’s having a good time. The people are pretty chill, he’s talking mostly to Rey and Rose, and the heat of the day has faded to a pleasant warmth under the full moon and stars.

It’s a good night.

Rey’s smile seems to indicate her tipsy level, going up and up. It’s not quite mega-watt, but it’s rapidly getting there. He thinks her cheeks will be sore in the morning, but perhaps those dimples are stronger than he thinks. For his own part, he _knows_ his cheeks will be sore. He hasn’t felt this happy since he can remember.

“So then, this father says–” Rey interrupts her own story with a fit of giggles, bending forward at the waist. She sways a little and Ben holds onto her back, just in case her own jokes knocks her over. 

“What?!” Rose asks, grinning in anticipation, eyes dancing over Rey.

Rey takes a big breath in, attempting to control herself to finish the story. “He says, ‘Do you have any lemonade_ without _lemons or sugar?’ Can you imagine!”

Ben shakes his head in disbelief. “God, some people are such tools.”

“There are only three ingredients! I offered him a cup of water? What else could I do, put popcorn in it?!!” Rey starts laughing again, her eyes disappearing into adorable crescents as she holds her stomach.

Rose rolls her eyes. “Ugh. I have to go to the bathroom. Rey, come with?”

Rey nods and turns to Ben.

“Yeah, I’ll fill up.” He holds up his red Solo cup.

“Oh, me too!” Rey says, but Ben shakes his head. “You need to slow down. How about some of that lemon-free lemonade this round?”

She grins at him. “Okay, fine.”

Ben walks over to the keg and gets a couple of cups, waiting for the girls. He picks up a bottle of water for Rey. He looks up at the moon.

Maybe he and Rey can walk down to the beach alone together. He doesn’t have his sweatshirt to offer her, so if she’s cold he’ll have to put his arm around her again. He thinks of her berry-pink lips and moistens his own. 

Maybe tonight is the night. To give it a try.

When the girls don’t come back after a while, he wanders over to the darkened side of the house by the bathrooms to look for them.

In the shadows, he sees a girl and a guy and hears soft voices. Ben takes a step closer and freezes. It’s Poe, and he’s got an arm pressed into the side of the house over the girl’s shoulder so he can lean down closer to her.

It’s Rey. 

She’s smiling up at him, that big beautiful smile. Poe brushes a hair from her face with the knuckles of his other hand.

Ben flinches back. In an instant, ice water floods his veins as if he just dove under a wave. The pressure in his lungs builds as he takes a step back and then turns on his heels entirely, walking in the opposite direction.

He doesn’t want to see it. He can’t.

His feet seem to move on their own as he walks back to the sound of the party. When he slams the cups down on the food table harder than he intends, and they slosh over. Reaching into his shorts pocket for his keys, they snag on the fabric because his hands are starting to shake. He’s got to get out of here. 

Stupid. He’s so fucking stupid. Rey’s into Poe, of course she is. He’s rich, smooth, not broken. 

Ben’s going to throw up. 

He spies Finn and walks up to him. Finn’s smile falls when he catches the look on Ben’s face. 

“Hey, can you guys get a ride home with someone? I’m not feeling well.”

“Okay? Are you sure you can drive?” Finn looks worried.

“Yeah, I just don’t want to be sick here.”

“Sure, man. Be careful.” 

Ben takes long strides out to the street. He finds Luke’s car, looking old and pathetic amid the huge houses and fancy cars, and starts to unlock the door. His pulse is pounding like the drumbeat of shame in his ears.

“Ben?”

Rey’s voice stops him. 

He turns around. She’s standing in the middle of the street behind him. 

Her brow is crinkled. Puzzled as she looks down at his hand on the car door. “Are you leaving?”

  
  
He looks to the side of her. “Yeah, Finn said he could get you a ride home. I’m–”

“Without saying goodbye?” Rey doesn’t look hurt or mad, she just looks confused. 

He looks down at his hands then closes his eyes. The only chance he has to get the words out is if he’s not looking at her.

“I didn’t want to bother you. I gotta go.”

She takes a step closer. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“Don’t worry about me. Go have fun with your friends.”

She frowns. “You’re my friend, too.”

Maybe he doesn’t want to be. Maybe it’s not enough anymore. He swallows, but his throat is tight. He’s so fucking embarrassed he wants a pit to open up and swallow him whole. If he could just disappear, he wouldn’t have to see her look at him like he’s some kind of loser, or even worse, pity him.

He couldn’t stand her pity. Better to kill all the hope now. The uncertainty hurts him more.

“I saw you, okay. Poe’s a good guy. You deserve a good guy.”

“What are you talking about?” Now her voice is rising, but he can’t stand to look at her.

“I gotta go,” he nearly throws himself into the car and starts the engine. He checks the rear-view as he pulls away, and she’s still standing in the middle of the road with the same confused look.

He doesn’t look back. Ben crosses the bridge back to Ocean City feeling empty and numb. He keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the pavement, although he could do the drive in his sleep. It’s a straight line back to his empty room at Luke’s, back to the lonely, quiet house in the dark. Nobody is waiting for him there, and that’s a relief. Ben knows the way by heart now.


	5. Wheel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter until our beach smut and HEA.
> 
> Thank you for your patience, hope you enjoy!
> 
> I never knew the art of making love  
No my heart aches with love for you  
Afraid and shy I let my chance go by  
The chance that you might love me too (love me too)
> 
> -Ray Charles, "You Don't Know Me."

The Atlantic is unpredictable. Storms can blow in faster than the weather reports can track. Overnight, the sky has turned a grungy gray, like a newspaper left out in the rain.

Ben wakes up in the dark, as always.

He slept like absolute shit. Closing his eyes was no relief and only filled his mind with the image of her looking up at Poe with the smile that sparks the light behind her eyes. The smile he wants for himself. 

Instead, he got a look of hurt and confusion as he slammed the door and drove away, leaving her there. He keeps rolling it over and over in his head, like the dizzy disorientation when he gets knocked off his board and can’t tell for a moment which way is up. 

If only he was cooler and not a broken mess. Outgoing. Dazzled her with his wit, like Poe. He should’ve bought her flowers or something romantic, instead of a fucking lemonade. Maybe then she’d have wanted him.

Loser.

He gets dressed in the dark. His stomach is too sour for food, so he skips it and closes the screen door quietly to not wake Uncle Luke as he walks around back to grab his board and bike from the shed.

The water will make him feel better. Overcast, breezy, there will be good waves. At least it will take his mind off the fact that there’s no more sun for him, today or any other day.

+++

They exchanged numbers so she could let him know if she was sick and had to miss a shift. The first day, Rey doesn’t text him. He didn’t expect her too, not with how he left things. 

The next morning, he’s so surprised to see a message from her that he has to wipe his eyes and sit up in bed. Sent after midnight.

_So are you going to tell me what happened?_

His skin tingles and he scratches at his bare chest. Is she mad? Upset? He can’t read the tone. There’s so much he could say. How to pick? 

_I can’t explain without making it more awkward._

_Let’s pretend it never happened, ok? Go back to the way it was._

_I’m too fucking in love with you to watch you with other guys._

_You’re better off not knowing me._

Pathetic. All of it.

He’s not smooth with girls and never has been. Trying to talk to Rey– who is so bright, so funny, so fucking sweet and kind . . . he’s struck speechless and dumb. 

So he doesn’t respond at all.

+++

Ben makes the employee schedule, so it’s easy enough in the week after the fireworks to assign Rey elsewhere. She can watch the House of Mirrors. The lemonade stand he can cover by himself. 

Better that way. Cowardly, but better.

Monday is fine. He avoids eye contact with anyone for too long, sits on the stool in the back with another of Luke’s worn paperbacks – _Crime and Punishment,_ just some light summer reading– and tunes out the voices of the crowd around him. Alone in his own bubble.

He’ll just go back to what it was like before he knew her. When the days were long and the hours stacked on top of each other, leading nowhere.

Tuesday is the same. He dives into the book like cutting under a wave while surfing. Everything else is dulled, yet the sound of his own body is loud in his ears. He can lose track of his edges that way, blending into the pulse of the ocean as its echoes and flows through you. Like drowning, but not really, and all alone- but not really– because then he’s part of a whole that is so much vaster than himself and the feeling of being inconsequential is natural and right.

The more he forgets about himself, the better.

“Ben.”

Her voice rouses him from the daze, and his head snaps up. Rey stands on the boards in front of the counter, hands in her back pockets. She’s not smiling. 

He has no idea how long she’s been there. His cheeks warm as he puts down the book and stands slowly, heart starting to pound. He looks down and away from her sparkling eyes. The same eyes that make him feel seen now feel like a trap now that he’s cornered. 

His gaze fixes on the countertop. “Hey.”

“You didn’t reply to me.” She cuts straight to it. No dodging or hedges, and he’s immediately on edge.

He shrugs and swallows. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“How about what happened? What’s going on with you?” She crosses her arms over her chest and lifts her chin, jaw set. As tiny as she is, he feels actual fear at the focused intensity of her eyes.

His tongue wanders the inside his cheek as his eyes skirt around her. Searching for words that won’t let her down even more than he already has. 

“Ben?” Her voice softens and he dares to look at her. “We’re friends. You can tell me.”

Friends. Just friends. Always were. 

Never anything else.

He clears his throat. “I drank too much and was gonna be sick. I had to go. Sometimes I get weird when I drink.” 

It seems like it could be the truth. Why not?

Her eyes scrunch at the corners, but family walks up to the stand to order. Rey steps aside and he turns his attention to them.

She says from behind them, “Meet me on the boards after shift, okay?”

He nods and she walks away.

After his shift ends, stomach twisting like saltwater taffy, Ben slips out the back gate instead.

+++

Four weeks left of summer. Two weeks since he last spoke to Rey.

He’s ignored a couple of missed calls from her. The longer the span of silence, the weirder it feels.

August is the hottest month, but also the most perfect. Most people spend their time in the ocean, since it’s finally the right temperature. The heat of the day is quiet at Wonderland but it picks up again after the sun goes down.

Ben spends every morning surfing. He works his shift– alone now, as he prefers– and heads straight home while avoiding the boards and the bars like the plague. He doesn’t want to run into Rey and her friends, and especially not fucking Poe Dameron. Whenever Ben thinks of his smug grin, his jaw and fists clench. 

The days without her now seem longer than the days they had together. Instead of hurting less, the wound seems to settle in deeper like a cut that needed stitches but never got them. The familiar tug of loneliness feels different now that he knows what he’s missing.

One night, Armie Hux surprises him by coming by after the gates closed. He’s washing out the tubs to prep for tomorrow when Ben hears him walk up.

“Hey, Ben, Cooper wanted me to ask you for some help.” Cooper is the Manager. What he says goes.

“Okay,” Ben says, not looking up from the sink. “What is it?”

“He wants to make sure the Ferris Wheel is balanced correctly. You are the biggest guy working. Can you ride a few times and tell me if it’s wobbling?”

Ben doesn’t necessarily like heights. In fact, he hates them. The Ferris Wheel is massive- easily eight stories tall. You can see all up and down the coastline from there– the ocean, boards, town.

He looks up to meet Armie’s bright blue eyes. “Um, can’t Gerardo do it tomorrow?”

Armie shrugs. “Cooper wants tonight.”

Ben sighs. “All right, let me lock up. Give me five minutes?”

Armie is already texting someone on his phone while nodding. Probably making plans to go out later, like a normal person. “Sure, meet me there.”

Ben finishes up the nightly routine and picks up his jacket, shoving his phone and book in his pockets. He locks up the booth and shuffles over to the wheel, absently wishing he had his favorite hoodie. Where did he leave it? Hasn’t seen it in a few weeks. Couldn’t have left it at the beach, and he’s done laundry since then so . . . weird. He’ll have to ask Luke.

Armie is grinning when he approaches the platform, not at all his normally bored demeanor. He’s holding his phone in one hand and won’t meet Ben’s eyes as he opens the gate to the carriage for him. Maybe he’s got a hot date later. 

“Just a few loops, right?” Ben asks as he crawls inside the buggy.

“Yup,” Armie agrees, locking him inside. “Just let me know if there’s a wobble or anything at the top.”

He moves to the controls and with the pull of the lever, the massive ferris wheel grinds into motion. Ben leans back and holds out his arms to grasp the bars on the windows on either side. His legs fall open and he scoots to the center of the seat. He doesn’t dare look up or out, just focuses on the empty seat across from him. It’s a slow rise up and a slow rise down.

On the way down, his back is to the platform. As he lowers down, the wheel slows down to a stop. As he turns to look for Armie, his head jerks up as the gate of the buggy rattles.

Rey hops inside and slams it behind her. “Go!” she calls out.

Ben’s in such shock he’s motionless for a moment, before looking to Armie who’s grinning as he pulls the lever. They lurch back into motion and his wide eyes settle on Rey, who’s facing him with what looks like a mixture of excitement and grim determination.

“What in the–” he stops himself, too flustered to finish. 

She cuts him off anyway. “You won’t speak to me. I’ve tried texting you, calling you, meeting up. If you’re going to act like a two hundred pound baby, then I must take matters into my own hands.”

He’s stunned. The world around her blurs as they lift up and up. The residue of the sunset still stains the horizon pink and orange, and the city lights have flickered on to match the stars above. The breeze catches the fine flyaway hairs around her face, and she tucks them behind her ear, eyes blazing and unrelenting.

He’s bewitched and captured. Nowhere to run, so around they go.

Ben looks down at his hands. “Look, it’s just. I can’t. I just–” The words are almost painful as his brain scrambles.

“Just talk to me!” She says, clearly frustrated. “That’s all.”

They start the decline and he turns to look for Armie, to call out for a rescue.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” Rey says, firmly, looking furious.

He looks back to her in surprise at her tone, sucking his lips into his mouth. Obeying her command. 

As they pass the platform, Rey waves an arm out the window, clearly a pre-set signal to Armie down below. This time as they rise to the top, they slow and stop at the pinnacle of the loop. Swinging gently in the young night air.

He’s frustrated now, too. She’s not going to let him off this wheel until she gets what she wants, and he knows it. Rey is nothing if not fierce, and he doesn’t stand a chance against her– never did. Ben squeezes his eyes shut and grips his thighs, struggling to contain the words and feelings that are bubbling up in his chest.

Months’ worth of humiliation. Of anger and failure. How much of a loser do you have to be to break your collarbone biking weeks before shipping out? To miss your chance at a career– at finally belonging somewhere and finding a purpose– only to run home with your tail between your legs? The hurt and shame all blend together with the hurt over Rey, and it comes spilling out in a jumble. He can’t face her and say it, so he keeps his eyes shut.

“I saw you with Poe, smiling and happy and– he’s a smooth guy, I know that. Charming. And I’m a loser who makes lemonade and popcorn, so of course you’d want to be with a guy who drives a convertible and not one who rides a goddamn rusted bicycle from tenth grade.”

“Ben–” she starts to interrupt, but that makes him mad. She wanted the words and now she’s not letting him speak? He pulls his eyes open and glares. “Let me finish.” 

Rey snaps her mouth shut, eyes round and lips slightly parted.

“You wanted to hear it, so here’s the truth: I like you. Like– _like you, _like you, and I have since the beginning. You’re beautiful, and funny, and smart and sweet– and kind of the only thing that makes my life good right now.”

It feels good to tell her the truth. A relief. She just stares at him, wide-eyed, so he keeps on talking. “And I’m a fucking loser, Rey, as you can clearly tell. I broke myself and got discharged, blew my shot at a career. I don’t know what I want to do now, and I’m angry or sad all the fucking time, and I have nothing to offer you– not even a piggy back ride. So to see you with that douchebag Poe Dameron– sorry, he’s a good guy, whatever– it just hurts. It hurt me. It’s embarrassing, okay? But it really hurt.”

He grimaces at the look of pity in her eyes, mortification finally catching up to him. Ben looks down at his lap and swallows the lump in his throat.

It’s quiet at the top of the world. The breeze blows across the carriage, and it sways slightly. He huffs. It does feel balanced up here. He’ll have to remember to tell Armie when they get down again.

He waits in the silence for the hammer to fall. Waiting for her to speak again. Instead, he watches as one small hand covers his.

“Ben,” she says softly in her deep voice. “I don’t give a shit about Poe Dameron.”

He blinks but doesn’t lift his head. She squeezes his hand, strong and solid, and it grounds him.

“I care about _you_, you big dummy.”

Now he looks up. She’s smiling at him gently. The breeze skips across her lovely face, and the stars twinkle back at him from her eyes.

“Do you know how many times I tried to ask you to hang out after work? I thought it would be less pressure if you were in a group. You always brushed me off.”

He frowns, trying to remember. Did he? How could he have possibly? What did he miss?

“Since you made me that lemonade the first day, flexing your big muscles and crushing citrus with no mercy, I’ve been trying to flirt with you. You never even noticed me checking out your ass or chest every time you reached for a box . . . God, Solo, you really are daft! I practically had to tackle you to get you to even touch me!”

He feels like that surprise gif of the redheaded guy blinking as astonishment washes over him. The world seems to shift upside down in a heartbeat. He holds onto her hand from fear of falling.

“So, I finally get you alone at Poe’s bonfire and am waiting for you to make a move. Then I have to chaperone Rose to the loo . . . and yes, he was trying to chat me up, and yes, I was laughing at him, but he was_ beyond _wasted and irksome, and I was hoping to come back and have a good round of mock-the-frat-boy with you, but instead you took off and ditched me!”

He can only gape at her. “What. I mean, how?” 

She grins at him and scoots closer to the edge of the seat, her knees tucking easily between his legs as she takes his other hand on his thigh.

“Why don’t you not speak for a moment?” she suggests.

He nods. Seems wise.

“Do you like me, Benjamin O. Solo, man of impossibly large proportions and intelligence, yet somehow the worst skills of perception in the world?”

He blinks. 

“You can say yes or no,” she informs him.

“Yes.”

“Yes, you like me?”

“Yes.” He says, and to be clear. “I do.” It feels like a wedding vow suddenly, and he feels himself blush.

Rey doesn’t seem to mind, and her smile brightens. “Good.” She slips in closer and her hands grip his. “Because I like you_ very_ much, and I’m sick of wasting time together that we don’t have to waste.”

He cranes his neck down to make it easier for her as she reaches up to kiss him.

She’s sweet, of course, and soft. As tender as he could hope for in his wildest dreams, but also not shy and unwavering. Ben closes his eyes to not look at the stars around them, or the steady waves of the ocean coming home to shore under the hopeful moonlight, or the life of the swarms of people below, as tiny as ants and busy living their own lives, so he can drift away into the feel of her lips against his. The warmth of tasting her is as comforting as the knowledge that she wants him, and they blend together into the sheer pleasure of joy.

Finally, the ball of tension in his chest from last year seems to melt away. There’s only him and Rey at the top of a Ferris wheel, making the most of the time they have together before the world starts moving again.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Star Wars characters are property of The Walt Disney Company.  
Original story and characters are copyright © 2019 by NewerConstellations. All rights reserved.
> 
> This work is intended for personal use by Ao3 users while posted. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of author, except in the cases of certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please do not transmit downloads beyond personal use.
> 
> For permission requests, write to newerconstellations@gmail.com.


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